


Fantasy

by startwithsparks



Series: MMOM 2013 [12]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Conflict of Interests, M/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the prelude to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/801666">Therapy</a>, Hannibal and Will discuss the deeper implications of bringing your work home with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy

"Tell me about your fantasies, Will..."

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair across from Hannibal, his hands on the curved wooden arms, and fingers curled tightly around the sides. The question unnerved him, but it was meant to. They had been coasting along too easily in their regular sessions, talking about little more than the cases they were working and Will's sleep habits. It was time to rattle things a little, in the doctor's opinion. Will seemed appropriately rattled as well, a fact which required Hannibal to hide a faint smirk behind a careful tilt of his head.

Will's brows furrowed. "Fantasies?" he repeated.

"What do you daydream about?" the doctor clarified. "Where does your mind go when it wanders?"

That seemed to put him at ease somewhat, but Hannibal still had every intention to steer the topic elsewhere once he had Will baited and hooked. He ran a hand through his mess of dark curls and shook his head uncomfortably, "Cases, I suppose..." He laughed, agitated, "It's uh... hard to think of anything else most days."

"You see a lot of things that most people in your position wouldn't be able to deal with," he nodded, "but there must be somewhere you go to escape that."

He snorted, "I'm sure there is. Unfortunately, it's only when I'm asleep and we know both how well that's been working out recently."

Hannibal rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the arm of his chair, and fingers curled delicately under his lip as he listened. He tried to keep his expression as indifferent as possible, though a barely perceptible smirk still lingered at the corner of his fine lips. He slowly inclined his head towards Will, watching him shift again under the stare. "What is it that you do to relieve stress, then?"

Will stared at him, gaze slightly hooded and mouth drawn into a line. He dragged his lower lip between his teeth, "I feel like there's something you're getting at," he frowned. "And as entertaining as it would be for me to continue to play dumb and watch you have to spit it out," he shrugged up one shoulder, "I'm really not that good of an actor."

His smirk twinged a little wider and he set his pen - which he'd been rolling idly between his fingers - back down on the notepad next to him. He gracefully leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of him. "I have faith in your acting ability," he said, "but you're right, it would be much easier if we stopped pretending you didn't know what I was talking about." He paused, letting the sweeping tone of silence linger between them a moment, "Tell me about your fantasies."

Will drew in a heavy breath, filling his lungs as he rubbed his hands over the front of his thighs. His back was rigid against the chair, shoulders pinned in place like a moth's wings to a board, and all the while Hannibal's gaze never faltered. The way he answered would be just as interesting as the answer itself, and every twitch and twitter that precluded it captured Hannibal's attention that much more. Will averted his gaze, casting it to the floor between them in a final moment of reticence, and exhaled.

"I..." he started slowly, chewing on the inside of his lip, "have always found that some sort of, ah, anticipation is a common element." It was clear how uncomfortable he was talking about this, and Hannibal kept his expression impassive as Will continued, his words broken up by a string of uncertain pauses and uncomfortable shifts. "I suppose it must come from worrying about being caught as a teenager. But that's not as much of an issue these days."

"And yet there's hardly a moment when you allow yourself to be alone," Hannibal countered.

He shrugged, "I don't have much of a need to be alone."

Hannibal cast a dubious glance at him, "Come now, Will..."

"If I had time alone I doubt that's what I'd be doing with it. It's hard to..." he waved a hand dismissively, "spend quality time with yourself when every time you close your eyes, you see... the sort of things I see." He snorted softly and rubbed the back of his neck, "I can't say I really find dismembered bodies all that arousing."

"I don't blame you," Hannibal replied. "But it's possible that you can learn to replace those images with something more pleasurable..." he trailed for a moment, considering his words carefully, "if you want it. I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to do, but if it's disruptive to your life, then I can certainly be of some help."

Will shook his head, "It's not... it's not _disruptive_ ," he said, "it's just..."

"It's not disruptive to your sex life?"

"You'd have to have a sex life in the first place to disrupt it and I'm not sure that's something in my immediate future."

"Do you want it to be?"

Will stared at him, head canted gently to one side and dark brows knit in tight. It was as if he were trying to study Hannibal, read him, but the doctor's face was inscrutable as ever. There was nothing there for Will to read that Hannibal didn't want him to find there. If he was trying to decipher the nature of the question, he would have to find it another way, because there was no tell present. Hannibal wanted an honest reaction, not one colored by what Will thought his expectation, or intention, was.

"Yes," Will nodded. "I'd like to be able to be intimate with someone without bringing my work home with me. But that's not really something I've ever been able to do - not even before I had this job. The only difference was that at least then I could take care of myself when the need arose."

Hannibal smirked carefully, "There is one other difference," he said. "You haven't had me as a doctor before now either. And I'd be more than happy to see to it that you're able to handle yourself, and the intimacy that you desire, if you want me to."

He was still very pointedly waiting for Will to ask him. He refused to be presumptuous or force Will into making any decision that he wouldn't come to on his own, but he did want him to know that he wasn't going to make a move without first being asked. It was imperative to him that he avoid the appearance of being manipulative in any way, or worse. He simply made his offer and then leaned back in his chair, hands folded lightly in his lap as Will turned it over in his mind. The gears grinding in his brain were perfectly visible on his face as well, and the moment they clicked into place, Hannibal saw it. One of the side effects of having perfect empathy was that it was sometimes hard to hide what was going on inside; that's what made Will so easy for him to delve into and so uncommonly fascinating.

Will finally breathed a faint sigh and let his shoulders loose with an air of resignation. "What are you suggesting?"


End file.
